Located near the end of Chapter 2, Page 99 of my dissertation features an interview with Director Byul Yun, a prominent K-pop music video director. This conversation highlights a central puzzle from my fieldwork in Seoul: while the term A&R (Artists & Repertoire) was on everyone’s lips, particularly among the young aspirants at the private production academies that served as my primary fieldsite, very few people actually hold this formal job title in the industry. What, then, does the A&R represent?
My dissertation argues that A&R functions less as an official job title and more as a vital conceptual anchor for K-pop’s complex, high-stakes production pipeline. To bring an idol album to life, every creative professional, from songwriters to cinematographers, must embody a panoptic A&R lens to align their specific labor with the overarching vision.
On Page 99, Director Yun illustrates this production reality beautifully. She recalls stepping far outside her directorial expertise to help develop original choreography, ensuring the movement fit the video’s narrative vibe. My research shows this experience is prevalent across my interlocutors. Whether a graphic designer or a lyricist, K-pop creatives must constantly weave between the local view of their discipline and the global view of A&R. Diffused throughout the pipeline, this characterological figure forces specialists to become both the proverbial jack of all trades and the master of all. Alongside the fan and the idol, the A&R stands as one of the three mythical figures motivating K-pop as an art form, embodying the creative economy’s intense demand for simultaneous technical breadth and depth.
Reflecting on this at the end of my dissertation fieldwork, I realized that this impossible expectation of maintaining both technical breadth and depth is precisely where the modern A&R parallels the modern anthropologist.
Anthropologists studying contemporary life face a strikingly similar mandate. We, too, are tasked with the near-impossible challenge of cultivating extraordinary thematic depth while analyzing multi-scalar global industries. Both the A&R and the anthropological paths force us to contend with the persistent anxiety of never having done or been enough to produce meaningful work, all while trying to secure basic upkeep in hyper-competitive, tightening job markets. Like the aspiring K-pop producers I met in Seoul, anthropologists peer behind the emerald curtain, witness the industry’s impossible standards, and choose to traverse the path anyway.
